


Small Favors

by asocialconstruct



Series: Basic [8]
Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, this used to be crack and now it's just sadfeels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU mpreg.  Mostly about messy breakups, postpartum depression and attachment issues though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a followup to [So Long Ago](http://archiveofourown.org/works/506787).

Fuck.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck.  

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but that asshole Encke just pushed and pushed and they ended up fucking in the locker room showers, just like in basic before Encke decided he was too good to slum around fucking gypsy trash any more.  Cain never should have let him, should have punched him in the fucking mouth instead of letting himself be kissed, but it had been too long and Encke had always been a good fuck.

Cain pressed at his belly, frowning into the mirror.  No more vodka, no more cigarettes, no more picking fights.  It’d been fine until his flight suit stopped zipping up, and now Abel was getting suspicious about why he’d stopped sleeping naked and wouldn’t fuck anymore.  He’d told Abel the morning sickness was just hangovers, but Abel was smart enough to notice he didn’t drink any more and that excuse was starting to wear thin with it happening every single damn day and every time they got out of the Reliant.

“Cain?  Are you alright?” Abel called softly, knocking on the bathroom door. 

“I’m fine, leave me alone,” Cain said, pulling his jacket on.  Abel poked his head in the door with a worried look on his face just as Cain was trying to sweep the pregnancy test off the counter and into the trash.  “Fuck, Abel, what happened to privacy around here?” he snapped, trying to hide the little test behind his back.

“What is this?” Abel demanded, coming in to try to get the test out of Cain’s hand.  “Are you alright?  Did you finally go to medical?”

Cain let him have it then.  Abel would find out sooner or later, too hard to hide it in this goddamn tiny room even if he could hide it from command and Encke for another couple months.

Abel stared at the test, turning it back and forth in the light to see the lines clearer.  One line for negative, two lines for positive, Cain had gotten it explained to him in medical when he’d shown up and asked for one for his navigator and almost punched the smug medic in the face.  Fucking assholes had probably already started to spread it around that Abel was knocked up, no such fucking thing as confidentiality when there was good gossip to hand around, and pretty soon Cain wouldn’t be able to show his face any more when he started getting fat and Abel stayed skinny.

Cain held his breath waiting for Abel to finally just say something.

“We’re pregnant?” Abel asked, his face lighting up.  

“We—“ Cain cut himself off.  How the fuck was he supposed to tell Abel it wasn’t his?  Abel pressed a hand to his belly, chewing his lip thoughtfully.  

It could have been Abel’s, they’d only done it once, but it had been around the right time.  If it was Abel’s, then it wouldn’t be quite so bad, he wouldn’t have to explain to Abel why he’d gotten fucked by someone else.  At least it sure as fuck wasn’t Deimos’, that kid would have no chance with the two of them to fuck it up.

“Yeah,” Cain said finally.  “We’re pregnant.”  

“Have you been to medical yet?  You should get vitamins or something, put in for a leave of absence.”

Cain pulled away from him then, going out to throw himself down on the mattress in the bedroom.  “You’re not getting rid of me,” he snapped at Abel, wishing for his smokes.  It was going to be a long couple of months.

“I don’t want to get rid of you, but it won’t be safe for you to fly, with, you know.”  Abel sat down next to him, putting his head on Cain’s shoulder and a hand on his belly.

If it was Abel’s, it wouldn’t be so bad, his fingers warm through the shirt.  “Have you thought about names?” Abel asked, snuggling in closer, and Cain put an arm around him.  If he couldn’t smoke, he could still fuck Abel.  “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”  If he could just get Abel to shut his goddamn mouth for long enough to fuck, that was.  

Abel smiled up at him, a small favor in this huge fucking mess, and Cain forgot what he’d been pissed about.


	2. Chapter 2

The fucking morning sickness wasn’t supposed to last this long.  Abel had said it would go away three months in but he was going on five and it was the worst fucking hangover of his life.  He’d practically run out of the morning briefing when he caught the smell of some asshole’s cigarette smoke, everyone watching as Deimos hurried out after him right in the middle of Encke’s bloviating.

At least it was fucking quiet up here, leaning on the railing of a catwalk over an empty hanger, Deimos hanging back by the door where Cain had slapped him away.  

“Get out of my fucking way, Thirty.”  Cain didn’t have to look to know who that was, Encke’s footsteps heavy on the metal grating as he pushed Deimos out of the way and stalked towards Cain, heavy and inevitable as the fucking tumor in his gut he’d been too cowardly to have cut out.

As if it wasn’t bad enough to have Deimos pretend to stand guard, he had to get his ass chewed out on top of it.  Cain leaned over the railing heavily, trying to breath like Abel had told him to, wishing there was somewhere colder to go, or at least somewhere he could take off his jacket and cool down.  

“The fuck is the matter with you, you irresponsible little shit?”  Encke demanded, coming up behind him and pulling Cain around to face him.  Cain let him; serve the asshole right if he just threw up on Encke’s boots.  “You too hungover again to make it through a simple goddamn briefing?”

“Fuck off, _sir_ ,” Cain mumbled, leaning away from Encke and the smell of him.

Encke shook him by the jacket collar, making his stomach clench and heave.  “I’m done with your goddamn bullshit and pissing contests.  You come into one more briefing hungover and I’ll drag you down to the brig myself before you get the rest of us fucking killed—“

“I’m not fucking hungover,” Cain snapped before he could stop himself.  “It’s goddamn morning sickness.”  Not like he’d be able to hide it much longer already, commissary suspicious when he’d put in for a bigger jacket.

Encke watched him, letting his jacket go.  Still stood at arm’s length, though, the railing of the catwalk pressing into the small of Cain’s back and trapping him there unless he just ran from Encke.  They glared at each other, Encke silent and appraising.  Cain made himself look Encke in the eye, ready to punch the fucker and damn the consequences if Encke tried to call him weak.

“Heard about that,” Encke said finally.  “I’d thought you’d have gotten rid of it by now.  Rumor is your navigator’s getting excited over a cuckoo’s egg.”  

The floor tilted under Cain’s feet; he’d walked down to medical twice to get rid of it, but he’d kept walking both times, and now it was too late.  Too late to get out of this fucking mess even if it was Encke’s, and all because he’d been too much of a coward to go under the knife. Couldn't forget holding his sister’s hand at the clinic when she’d gotten hers cut out.  She’d always been the brave one between the two of them.

Cain could feel his face get hot, but he put it down to the nausea, making him shaky and weak with a knot in a stomach, coffee and water the only thing he’d been able to keep down all day.  “Fuck you, Eight, it’s his,” Cain said, as if that was a reason to keep a tumor growing in his gut.

“Your navigator’s.”  Encke gave him a long look, and neither of them thought for a second it was true.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one I fuck, you ever think about that?” Cain snapped.

“Never thought I was.  I’m just surprised there’s only two of us for you to keep track of.  You always did get around.  Must have been hard climbing up from Fifty on your knees, though.”

“Say that again after I break your fucking nose—“

Encke caught his fist and pulled Cain close, putting a hand on his shoulder so he had no way out.  “Careful, mama, wouldn’t want to wake the baby.  We’ll just have to wait and see who it looks like, me or him.  Or maybe it’ll look like One, he always did have a soft spot for you.”

“I haven’t fucked Bering since—“

“I don’t remember you doing the fucking, Fifty.  Not the way Two and Six told it, anyway.”

Cain clenched his teeth, trying to keep himself from doing anything stupid, shaking with the tension of not just gutting the fucker right there, but Encke would always be too fast and too strong for him, and Abel would never look at him again if the precious fucking tumor got hurt.

One deep breath, another one, his jaw aching with how hard he ground his teeth together.  “I’ll put you right next to Six if you don’t back the fuck off,” Cain said slowly.  Encke let him go, but he didn’t back off.  Cain’s fat belly was the only thing between them, and he kept himself from putting a hand over it.  

“You can try, but it won’t be out there.  You’re done flying,” Encke said, and turned and left him there to lean on the railing, Deimos coming up to watch him try not to throw up.  He pushed Deimos away as soon as his stomach stopped clenching, but let Deimos walk him back to the room.

* * *

Abel walked in on him tearing the room apart looking for his smokes.  He’d flipped the mattresses up off the floor and dug through every pocket on every piece of clothing, and now he was halfway through Abel’s drawers, looking for even one damn cigarette, just anything to take the sharp edges off this shitty mess.

“What the fuck did you do with them?” Cain demanded before Abel got the door closed, flipping the rest of Abel’s shit out onto the floor.  

Abel just stared at him.  “What did I do with what?  Why’re you going through my—“

“My goddamn cigarettes, Abel, my fucking cigarettes.  I had two packs left and they’re gone, what the fuck did you do with them?”

“I got rid of them,” Abel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Cain was a goddamn idiot.  “You can’t smoke while you’re pregnant, so why keep them?  I threw them out.”

“You—you fucking _threw them out_?” Cain repeated, sure that he hadn’t heard right, sure that Abel wouldn’t have done that to him, not now, not with Encke fucking his life.  

“You should quit anyway, it’s not good for you and you won’t be able to smoke once the baby’s here anyway.”

Cain sat heavily, right in the middle of the pile of Abel’s crap and his thrown all over the room.  “You fucking threw them out,” he said again.  

“Have you eaten anything all day?  You look terrible.”

Cain rubbed at his eyes, fucking exhausted and not interested in Abel’s bullshit concern today or ever.  “Just—fuck, just shut up.  Did you get rid of my fucking vodka too?”

“ _Yes_ , you _know_ you’re not supposed to drink.  Look, let’s go down to the cafeteria and see if there’s anything left from lunch, you need to eat something or it’ll make the baby sick.”

“Fuck, Abel, do you care about anything else anymore?” Cain snapped, shaky and resentful.  Abel didn’t give a fuck about anything besides the fucking tumor anymore, wouldn’t understand about Encke even if Cain tried to explain why he needed a smoke so badly.  Abel wouldn’t ever understand any of it, too fucking happy because he didn’t have to deal with any of it except nagging Cain.  “You got your fucking wish, I’m off rotation, what more do you want?”

“You’re—when?  You’re going on leave?”

“Don’t know, the orders haven’t come down yet,” Cain mumbled, putting his head in his hands.  But Encke would follow through on it, he knew that, and it would be sooner rather than later.  Abel sat next to him and Cain let him put his cheek on Cain’s shoulder.  

“At least it’ll be safer for the baby that way,” Abel said, and if Cain hadn’t been so fucking weak and sick from the nausea he’d have pushed Abel away and gone to look for a drink anyway.  As it was he just swallowed and let Abel put a warm hand on his belly.


	3. Chapter 3

Medical took him off rotation on Encke’s orders, got him his own room and Abel got reassigned to someone who wasn’t fat and useless.  Encke pulled some strings to make sure Abel got reassigned to Deimos, because Encke was a fucking asshole and he knew Deimos was the best and worst possible option.  Cain avoided the prick when he could, which wasn’t enough, since he had to see the fucker every damn time they got a boatload of new recruits, stuck doing admin work and training with Encke hanging over his shoulder waiting for him to fuck up.

So Cain slept in what was Abel and Deimos’ room now, both of them pressed against him in the little bed, because he couldn’t stand the thought of them alone together, especially when he woke up with the little bitches holding hands across his fat belly, the baby kicking all three of them.

He didn’t really have the strength to wake up and rearrange both of them, though, too fucking tired and worn out, run ragged by Encke and the new recruits.  So he turned his face down into Abel’s hair and let Deimos sigh against his shoulder, hoping for a fucking miracle to make the whole mess just go away.  He didn’t sleep that night, or most nights after that, rolling over in his head what would happen when they finally cut the thing out of him.

* * *

 

The recruits whispered about him, every fucking batch worse than the last one as he got fatter and fatter.

 _Heard it’s his navigator’s,_ they murmured during inspection.

_Yeah?  I heard it’s Encke’s._

_You hear he used to get fucked by Bering?_

“You.  Cephas,” Cain snapped, pointing at the second one, and just his luck the asshole deserved to be called Cephas, because he was built like a fucking boulder, but Cain wasn’t going to stand for this shit.  “On the floor, motherfucker, fifty pushups.”

“Make me—“ the asshole started, and Cain kicked him in the knee, dropping the big dumb asshole to the floor.  Kicked him in the side too, for good measure.  “That’s not fair,” the idiot wheezed.

Cain put his boot on the side of the big fucker’s neck, just enough pressure to make him feel it in his windpipe, and he gave the rest of the staring recruits a smile.  

“I’m the motherfucking sergeant.  I don’t have to be fair,” he said, and kicked the asshole in the side again.  “Fleet,” he said with a kick, “is not fair.  Life,” and another kick, “is not fair.  Give me a hundred fucking pushups, and the rest of you assholes can run laps til the fucker is done.  _Move_ ,” Cain snapped when they just stared at him.  One broke, and that was all it took to break the rest, all of them starting to jog as Cephas started his pushups.  

Cain turned around to stretch his aching back, and cursed when he saw Encke right the fuck behind him, watching with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re about as subtle as Two,” Encke said.

“Fuck off, Eight,” Cain snapped, not giving a fuck if Encke had him thrown in the brig for insubordination, because at least then he could stay off his feet and not deal with every jarhead new recruit.  “You here for the show or you going to do something besides get in my fucking way?”

“Just here for the show, Fifty,” Encke said, and left.

* * *

It came up too fast, the day scheduled by medical and Abel fussing the closer it got, like it was going to be a big fucking holiday instead of a huge goddamn mess.  Abel went in with him, holding Cain’s hand as they put him under and made him count backwards from fifty.  Didn’t make it past forty, out too fast to worry enough about what would come after.  

Didn’t remember much after that, pushed around and drugged out, alone except for the medics and the screaming mess they said was a baby.  Cain lay in his dark hospital room most of the day after even though they nagged him to walk around, wishing for his smokes or Abel or anything to make the fucking pain go away.  If Abel would just sit by the bed Cain might be able to make himself get up, but the medics said he hadn’t been by since Cain got out of surgery.

He thought Encke was the medic at first, waking up to see him leaning over the bassinett they’d put the screaming mess in.  Cain couldn’t make himself hold it, almost dropping it the couple of times they’d made him give it a bottle, clumsy with something so soft and breakable and small, both of them alone together with no Abel.  Cain had them put the bassinett where he could see it, but then he couldn’t make himself look at it when it wouldn’t stop crying, telling the entire wing and probably the entire ship how fucking useless he was at this.

Encke stood over her, and Cain had the sudden panicky thought that Abel hadn’t come because she wasn’t his after all.  Cain hadn’t really looked at her, red and screaming any time he tried to touch her.  If the thing was Encke’s he’d be stuck, should have gotten rid of it when he could and never told Abel about any of it.  Should never have hoped it would work out because nothing ever went right in his fucking life.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Cain choked, hating himself for the way it sounded and the way Encke looked back at him.  “She’s not yours,” he said, hoping it was true.

“I can see that,” Encke said.  “Must have gotten her looks from your navigator, since you look like shit.”

“Fuck you,” Cain said, not much strength in it, watching Encke gather the little swaddled bundle up.  He brought it over to the bed, standing next to Cain where he could see both of them, Encke smiling down at it.  As much as the asshole ever smiled, anyway, more of a frown with the edges turned up.  The last time he’d actually seen Encke with a smile was back when they’d been Eight and Forty, on that fucking road trip.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Eight,” Cain said again, petulant and pathetic.  He wouldn’t be able to do a fucking thing if Encke just walked out with her, and his chest tightened at the thought.

Encke glanced up at him with a half smile, and Cain would have decked the fucker if he could have just made himself sit up first.  The asshole handed it to him then, worse than when the medic had given it to him wet and squalling and covered in blood, because now it was quiet and soft and Encke was there to see him awkwardly try to hold it against his chest and glare at the same time.

The fucker laughed at him.  

Cain tried to swipe Encke’s hands away as he reached down to take her away, but Encke just caught his hand and put it on the bundle on his chest, rearranging the baby and Cain’s arms so it wasn’t so awkward.  Almost like it was supposed to be there.  

“Hold her tight, you’re not going to break her down and field strip her,” Encke said.  Like Cain hadn’t been the fastest in basic, like he hadn’t broken Encke’s record on everything once he figured out what the fuck he was doing.

“How the fuck would you know how to hold it?  Don’t remember you ever being good at anything besides fucking and killing,” Cain mumbled, looking down at it so he wouldn’t have to look at Encke and his smug face.

“Aunt had a full house before I left for basic, you knew that,” Encke sighed, pulling a chair over and easing himself down into it.  “Your sister know she has a namesake?”

“Would you just get out of here, Eight, I’m fucking sick of you and your bullshit.”

“So no.  Your navigator know why his baby has a colonial name?”

Cain frowned down at the little pink thing in his arms, her eyes closed and her little rosebud mouth trying to suck in her sleep.

Encke sat and watched them in the half dark, and it could have almost worked that way if she had been his, if everything hadn’t gotten fucked back in basic.  Because it was Encke here and not Abel, and Abel would never understand everything even if Cain tried to explain.  Encke just knew and they didn’t have to talk about it.  If she had been his, then Cain would never have to explain to Abel why his happy little plans would never work out for her.

“I have to go,” Encke said after a while, pushing himself up.  “You want me to put her back?”

“Get the fuck out,” Cain snapped, not looking at him, hunching over the baby.

Encke just shrugged and started to go.  “See you later, Nine,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the door.


	4. Chapter 4

He didn’t realize the door had opened until Abel put a hand on his shoulder.  

Cain rolled over, embarrassed to have Abel find him curled on his side like a fucking coward, but he was a coward and he just couldn’t fucking take it, the stitches where they’d cut the fucking thing out of him still burning and his head pounding with the wailing.  

Abel frowned down at him, the first time Cain could remember him visiting in all the days since he’d been cut open.  Abel must have been there when they cut him open, but Cain couldn’t remember any of it, too drugged out the whole time, couldn’t remember anything except Encke and when they’d handed him the screaming mess like it was supposed to mean anything to him.  

Abel said something, but Cain couldn’t hear him over the wailing.  He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, blurry and sick with the painkillers.  

“I _said_ , how long have you been letting her cry?” Abel asked, scowling down at him.

Cain pushed himself sitting, the room spinning and dark, worse than being hungover.  “Don’t know.  All day?” he managed, wishing Abel would do something besides glare at him.  

Abel did do something else, just turned away with a huff.  Left Cain to sit there alone and sick as Abel went to the bassinet where the medic had put the thing that morning and left it to scream ever since.  Abel shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on the chair.  He reached a hand down to the little wailing thing.  

Cain couldn’t see what he did from the bed, but it quieted down, fussing instead of screaming.

“Did you bring my cigarettes?” he asked Abel’s back.

Abel frowned over his shoulder at Cain and turned away again.  “You’re not supposed to smoke around the baby, it’s not good for her,” he said.  Abel picked up the mewling little thing out of the bassinet, curling over it, holding it to his chest.  He bounced it and put a finger in its mouth.  Finally got it to shut up.

Abel smiled down at it in a way he’d never looked at Cain.  

Cain watched them, watched Abel be as good at this as Cain was stupid and useless.  Watched Abel light up and fucking _coo_ , making little noises at it, and he didn’t know how Abel could stand to touch something so tiny and breakable.  Cain watched them and wished he felt like he could go over to them, or just figure out how to do anything right.  Wished he knew how to be as happy about this as Abel was.

“God, Cain, she’s hungry and wet, haven’t you picked her up all morning?” Abel asked suddenly, glaring over at him.

Cain swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made himself stand, not looking at Abel, wincing with the pain of his stitches.  Felt like his whole fucking gut would tear out if he moved too fast, the stitches burning when he pressed a hand to the pain.  The doctor had told him to take it easy, but this was too fucking much.  

“Did you bring my smokes or not?” he asked again.  The only fucking thing he’d asked Abel for this whole time, just to have his cigarettes back at the end, and Abel had to give him a lecture about that too.  Nagging him for nine months hadn’t been enough.  Cain leaned against the bed and looked at the floor, sick with how fucking weak he felt and the way Abel looked at him.

Abel sighed and dug them out of his pocket, the little thing starting to cry again when Abel had to take his finger out of its mouth and juggle it around.  Cain grabbed them away from him, shaking the pack to make sure his lighter was still in there, and turned away from Abel as fast as he could.  

“Make sure you turn the vents all the way up,” Abel snapped at his back as he went for the bathroom, and Cain shut the door between them.  He got a smoke lit with shaky fingers and flicked the vents up, anything to keep Abel from bitching him out again and anything to get away from the wailing.  

He’d only gotten one drag, finally the first nicotine in nine months, the first after this whole shitty mess when Abel banged on the door, the screaming mess wailing at the top of its lungs.  

“Cain, goddamnit, where’s the bottle, what did you do with it?” Abel yelled.  

Fuck, the bottle, the fucking bottle, he’d gotten one that morning but the little thing wouldn’t take it and now he couldn’t fucking remember what had happened to it, probably gone cold by now anyway.  He tried to put the lighter back into the pack but dropped it, his hands shaking and not able to concentrate with the screaming and Abel banging on the door.  “Fuck, I don’t know,” he yelled, wincing again as he crouched to get the lighter.  “Just get another one from the medic.” 

It was quiet then, Abel carrying the noise out with him to get a bottle and Cain sat heavily on the floor.  Too hard to push himself back up standing anyway.  

Finally some fucking quiet, no medics prodding at him, no screaming thing, no Abel to glare at him like he was a fucking idiot.  And the nicotine, fuck, it was better than his first cigarette, all the rush of it coming back after not having it for so long, almost worth the rest of this shit just to have the hot burn and ease of it in some fucking quiet.

But then it was done, so he lit another one, getting cold and cramped sitting on the bathroom floor but not caring.

And then another one, because he could, just needing something to calm the jitters in his hands and take his mind off how much everything fucking hurt.

The fourth one helped more, the tension finally starting to ease out of his shoulders until Abel banged on the door and made him jump.

“Cain, come on, I have to go soon, you need to come take the baby.”

“Just give me a couple minutes,” Cain snapped at the door, glaring up when Abel pushed it open.

“You’ve been in here for half an hour, you have to quit being so selfish,” Abel sighed, frowning down at him with the thing tucked into one arm.  Quiet, sleeping finally.  Cain glared at them both.  “Come on, I changed her and fed her, and the medic said he’d come by later to help you feed her again.  Just get up, I have to go.”

Cain pushed himself up then, grinding his cigarette out in the sink and pushing Abel’s hands off when he tried to push him back to bed.  He settled himself and let Abel sit next to him on the bed, watching Abel bounce the little thing in one arm.

“Did you think about what we talked about?” Abel asked, tracing its cheek with a finger tip.

Cain scowled and looked away from them.  “No, fuck, do we have to talk about this now?”  He just wanted to try to sleep while it was finally quiet, anything to just get away from all of this for a few minutes.

“Yes, we do, medical needs an answer,” Abel snapped, glaring at him.  “She has to go somewhere and your leave is almost up.  Do you want her to go to my parents’ or not?”

“No,” Cain snapped back.

Abel took a deep breath, pursing his lips and not looking at Cain.  “Do you have anyone else to send her to?” Abel asked slowly.

Cain frowned.  He could send it to his sister, or his uncle, and how shitty would that be, stuffing another brat in with all the little snot-nosed cousins.  Or palming the mewling thing off on his sister, who couldn’t pay her electric bill, just one more piece of junk for her to try to fix.  “No,” Cain said finally, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in the sheet.

“Then she has to go to my parents.’”  Abel chewed his lip, thinking about something he didn’t want to say, Cain didn’t need to look at him to know that.  “Do you want to go with her?  You could stay with them for a couple days, get to know them and say good bye.  Medical can make the arrangements,” Abel said, reaching out to put a hand on Cain’s.

He threw Abel’s hand off.  “Send the brat where ever you want, I’m not fucking going with.”

“Well one of us has to, she can’t just get sent by herself,” Abel snapped, standing up and taking the baby and his hand and his warmth with him.  Abel put the little thing back down in the bassinet, leaning over it when it started to fuss again.  “If you’re too selfish to do it, then I will and you won’t even have to think about her, if that’s what you want.”

Abel turned and grabbed his coat off the chair, and Cain watched him storm out to catch the medic as the little thing started to scream again.  Abel gestured at Cain’s open door, the medic nodding and making notes in a tablet, probably talking about how selfish and stupid he was and that he shouldn’t be left with the baby, but he couldn’t hear any of it over the screaming.  

Cain scowled and leaned over to pick the baby up, clumsy with how tiny and delicate she was.  Cain jiggled her, to keep himself from seeing the way Abel looked at him and to quiet her down before the medic came in to take her away.

If he could just get her to quiet down they might let him keep her for a minute longer.  He didn’t know what to do, but he just had to hold onto her for a minute more.

The baby just screamed, though, screamed and screamed and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do without Abel there to fix it.  He tried to put a finger in its mouth like Abel had, but it wouldn’t take and his hands probably smelled like cigarettes anyway.

Abel was right, it had to go to his parents’, away from Cain the best place for it.  

The medic came in then and took the baby from him, bouncing it and making little noises.  Quieted it down just as fast as Abel had, ignoring Cain and walking it away from him.

Cain got up to lock himself in the bathroom again, where he didn’t have to watch and where the medic and the baby couldn’t hear him.


	5. Chapter 5

He had three more weeks of leave with the baby, sleeping in his room alone with it when he could chase Abel and Deimos away.  Lay with the baby on his chest when he could get it to sleep and let Abel nag him about holding it right when he had to.  Let Deimos sit with them sometimes so long as Deimos stayed quiet and leaned against him.

Just three weeks and then Abel took it away, gone for a couple of days of shore leave to take it to his parents’ where Cain would never see it again.  Abel sulked for a week after he came back, messaging his parents eight times a day to check on the baby, anxious when he didn’t hear back in an hour, fussing when he heard the baby didn’t sleep, snapping at Cain that he should care more.

Cain came back from one of his checkups for the scar to find Abel looking too fucking pleased with something, sitting on the mattress bent over his tablet.  “The fuck are you so happy about?” Cain snapped at him.  

Nothing to be fucking happy about in this whole mess, but Abel didn’t have Encke watching him or Deimos hovering after every step he took.  Didn’t have the whole fucking ship laughing at him every time he showed his face, didn’t have to worry about climbing back up the rankings because Abel had never lost his place at the top.  Only Cain had to claw his way back up from the bottom and be careful of his scar while he did it.

Abel glanced up as Cain closed the door, still smiling until he caught Cain’s look.  Abel frowned, pursing his lips, and held up the tablet.  “My parents sent pictures, do you want to look?”

Cain scowled and brushed past Abel to look for his smokes.  Abel frowned at his back, he could feel it.

“They sent video,” Abel pushed, starting to sound pissed again.  “Don’t you at least want to see?  She’s starting to sit up on her own, and she looks like you.”

And wasn’t that just the worst fucking thing Cain could have done to her, give her a colonial face and send her to Earth, and all because he’d been too optimistic and cowardly to take her back where they both belonged.

“Just fuck off, Abel,” Cain mumbled, trying to fish out a cigarette so he wouldn’t have to look at Abel or the pictures or think about any of it.

“Why won’t you look?  Why can’t you even _pretend_ you care—“

“Because as soon as you go home, I’m never going to see the brat again, so why the fuck should I care now?” Cain snapped, so fucking sick of this goddamn charade, as if Abel had ever cared about him in any of this besides making sure he didn’t fuck up the baby.

Abel took a sharp breath, staring at him.  “You’re not—what do you mean you won’t see her again?”

Cain flicked the lighter, once, twice, three times, trying not to let Abel see the shake in his hands and throwing the lighter down when it wouldn’t even spark.  He was fucking useless these days, couldn’t even get a fucking lighter to work, and everything just snapped.  “Because you and your goddamn parents are just going to take her and push me out so I can’t ruin your fucking perfect little family, so why the fuck should I try to care now?”

“Is that—Cain, is that what you think, we’d never—“

“Fuck you, Abel,” he said, looking at Abel finally.  “I heard you tell the medic to take her away, I’m not a fucking idiot.”  That was a goddamn lie, he hadn’t heard any damn thing but her screaming, but it was as good as true with the way Abel had looked at him.

Abel reached out to put a hand on his arm.  “Cain, that’s not—“

“Let go.”

“Cain, just calm down, you’re being—“

“Let go before I break your fucking hand, Abel,” he said slowly, watching Abel blanch.  Abel took his hand away, stepping back from him with his lips pressed together.  

Cain pushed past him to go find Deimos or someone with a lighter, anything to get away from Abel and everything he wanted.

* * *

 

The room was empty by the time he got back.  Abel gone somewhere, probably to cry to one of his navigator friends or tell everyone what an asshole Cain was.  He scowled at the empty bed, knuckling at his sore eyes as he stripped to sleep.  

Abel’s tablet sat on the mattress, the photos still open on it.  A blond man and woman smiling.  Cain flicked that away, didn’t want to see Abel’s parents and how fucking happy they were, and there she was.

She didn’t look anything like him.  

Abel was a goddamn liar and he probably thought all colonials looked alike.  She looked like his fucking sister, back before she’d been worn down by life and trying to take care of him.  Or like their mother, in the one photo they had of her, tattered up and left in his sister’s apartment.  

The baby looked nothing like him, too pretty for that.  Too delicate and soft, dressed up in a soft little jumper with ducks Abel’s mother had gotten for her, Abel’s eyes and her hair in soft little black whorls.

There were more pictures, and more after that, fucking hundreds, scrolling through all of them making him dizzy with every wet little smile and pink hand.

He got out the bottle of vodka, just a drink or two to take the edge off so he could get through the rest of the pictures.  If he could make himself look at them, maybe Abel would finally stop bitching about it or at least stop making Cain feel like a whipped dog.  If he could look at them, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much every time Abel had to talk about her.

Just one or two more drinks to make himself look at the pictures from when Abel had taken her away, safe and happy in his couple of days of shore leave with his parents and the baby.  So fucking normal looking in his civilian clothes, curled over a little dark haired thing that didn’t look like him, smiling at whoever had taken the picture.

One drink more to keep himself from thinking about what a fucking coward he’d been when he’d let Abel take her away.  Another one to keep himself from just staring at a picture of her sleeping, round and pink and so far away. 

Abel came back when the bottle was mostly gone, and Cain couldn’t remember how much he’d had or when everything had started to hurt so fucking much.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This refers back to [A Matter of Timing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/500445/chapters/878228), which happened before Small Favors started.

**Abel**

They put Cain to bed together for the second time that week, drunk and moody but distressingly obedient when Abel and Deimos pulled the bottle away from him and made him drink water before falling asleep.  Abel pillowed Cain’s head on his lap, smoothing his hair down as Cain curled around him.  Deimos sat on his other side, both of them sharing a worried look in the dark over Cain’s back.  He’d been getting distant, drinking alone in the evenings when he knew Abel and Deimos would both be gone for a couple hours.  

Abel tried to get rid of the alcohol when he found it, but Cain always managed to get another bottle.  He didn’t ask Deimos if he was helping Cain get it, didn’t want to lose the only help he had in taking care of Cain, and the worried looks he gave Cain made Abel think he wouldn’t.  Or at least Abel hoped so, even though they’d never talked about it.  Or talked at all, Deimos just there and comforting when Cain was reassigned during his leave.

“We have to do something,” Abel said quietly, hoping Deimos would know what to do.  Deimos knew Cain in ways Abel wouldn’t ever, and he’d mostly given up worrying about whether they were or had been attached, because it meant having someone who knew Cain well enough to know why he was upset.  

Even if he couldn’t ever explain to Abel why Cain wouldn’t look at photos or talk about the baby.  Deimos looked at pictures with him, almost as anxious for messages from Abel’s parents as Abel was, and Abel tried to tell himself that Cain would come around to it eventually.  In the meantime he sat with Deimos in the evenings and tried to ignore Cain’s sour looks.  Abel needed someone, and if Cain would only let Deimos close enough, then Deimos would have to be enough for both of them.

“Encke would be able to talk to him,” Deimos said finally.  Quiet, barely on the edge of hearing, like he didn’t want to be caught saying it.

“Are they friends?” Abel asked.  Encke had sounded like he would throw Cain out the airlock if he could, but things were complicated with fighters.  Deimos just twisted his mouth, frowning down at Cain.

“Not friends anymore,” Cain mumbled into Abel’s thigh.  “Long time ago.”

Abel looked at Deimos, wondering if Cain would remember this and be angry about it.  Deimos must have taken it as a question, because he shrugged and just said, “In basic,” avoiding Abel’s eyes.  Like there was something about it he didn’t want to talk about, like there was something Cain wouldn’t want him to say.  Abel frowned but didn’t press.  The few friends Abel had managed to make in academy were assigned all over with no way to stay in contact now that they all had code names, so Abel tried not to be jealous that Cain had managed to keep at least two friends from basic, Encke and Deimos.  If Cain had friends.

Deimos lay down then, curling against Cain’s back, protective even if he wouldn’t say what Cain needed protecting from.  Abel watched them for a minute, shut so far out of whatever was between them but not sure he wanted to know why it hurt both of them so badly.  He lay down, though, pulling Cain over to lay on his shoulder, brushing Deimos’ hair with his fingertips where Deimos pressed his face to Cain’s back.  If they wouldn’t ever let Abel see what was between them, at least he could be with them.  Deimos lay an arm across Cain, his fingers warm on Abel’s side.

Abel found Encke in central the next morning, his stomach twisted up in knots, but Deimos had refused to do it, so Abel had to.  He could feel Keeler watch him from across central, following him as intensely as Encke ignored him.  Abel had managed to avoid being alone with Keeler since before the baby, but he felt pulled to Keeler again—or pushed, by Cain’s distance.

Encke didn’t look at him until Abel was right in front of him, trying to keep from twisting his hands, trying to make Encke pay attention to him even though he clearly didn't want to see Abel.

“I need—sir,” Abel said, uncomfortable and not sure where to start.  “I need to talk to you about Cain.”

Encke glanced past him to where Keeler must have been watching them.  “What’s he done?  If he goes after Keeler because of you—“

“It’s not that,” Abel said quickly, sick with wondering what Encke thought Cain would do.  “He doesn’t know, he won’t know.  He’s just—he’s been drinking and I don’t know what to do.”

Encke looked him up and down, weighing him, looking for something.  Waved his hand finally, to dismiss Abel, turning back to his work.  “Not my problem.  Tell him if he comes in hungover he’ll be off rotation again, I’ll deal with his sorry ass then.”

“You have to talk to him, he won’t listen to me,” Abel said, desperate even though Cain would kill him if he found out about this.  “I know you don’t like me, but Cain said you used to be friends.  You have to talk to him.”

Encke looked back at him, his face hard.  “He said that,” Encke said finally, and Abel couldn’t quite tell what his tone meant, so he just nodded.  Abel couldn’t tell what was between Cain and Encke any more than he could tell what was between Cain and Deimos, but he didn’t know who else Cain had.  And Cain would never listen to Deimos either.

Abel fidgeted, uncomfortable with Keeler watching them.  He glanced over his shoulder, and Encke followed his look.

“I’ll talk to him,” Encke said finally, waving Abel away, a real dismissal this time.  Abel hurried out, sure he’d let himself be talked into something foolish if Keeler tried to ask if things were alright.

* * *

**Cain**

Cain sat on catwalk hanging over one of the empty bays, the fifth of whiskey sitting mostly empty next to him.  It didn’t last as long lately, especially with Abel and Deimos both trying to hide it from him.  Abel poured it out, but at least Deimos knew better than to fuck around with that.  Cain sat with his feet dangling over the emptiness, leaning on the railing as he got another smoke lit.  

It might be fucking cold and empty, but at least alone he didn’t have Abel bitching in his ear about what he should care about or telling his little stories about what things would be like when they went home to the baby, as if Cain had a home or a baby or a family, as if Abel had ever wanted anything from him.  As if Cain had ever had anything to give.  He flicked ash over the railing, watching it float down in the thin air.

The door at the end of the catwalk whispered open, and Cain ground his jaw, not interested in dealing with Deimos and his hovering and babysitting.  Between Abel and Deimos he couldn’t get any goddamn peace even since the screaming mess had been sent away.

“Fuck off, Deimos, I told you to stay the fuck away from me until I came looking for you,” Cain called, not looking at him.  He didn’t need Deimos any more now than he had in basic, and he sure as fuck didn’t need Deimos spying on him for Abel.

Cain barely kept himself from startling at the sound of Encke’s boots on the catwalk, too heavy for Deimos, and he cursed himself out.  “What the fuck are you doing, Fifty?” Encke asked quietly, and Cain couldn’t even glare at the fucker, too goddamn pathetic and drunk to get chewed out standing up.  

“Go to hell, Eight,” Cain mumbled.  “Don’t you have Keeler to suck your cock now, or are you looking for someone who’ll put up with getting dry fucked?”

“Are you drunk?” Encke said, standing just out of arm’s reach, like Cain would have been able to do anything to him even if he hadn’t been sitting and exhausted and pathetic.

“Not enough,” Cain said, leaning heavily on the railing.  Wished Encke would just tell him he was a fucking useless whore and get it over with.  Or pull him out of there to fuck so something would hurt besides all of this bullshit.

Encke shifted, crossing his arms, making the metal grating of the catwalk creak in the open air.  “Your navigator’s worried about you.”

“Fuck him, he’s only worried about the baby.”

“And you aren’t?”  Cain ground his jaw.  Encke had always thought he’d known him so well, like fucking had ever meant anything.  “You never were very good at keeping yourself from fucking things up.  At least your navigator wants to help, fuck knows why.”

“Just fuck off, Eight, we’re not friends.”

“We used to be.”

Cain finally looked up at him, drunker than he’d thought with Encke wavering in front of him.  “We weren’t ever friends.  Don’t fucking lie to my face and say that we were.”

Encke glared down at him, judging, just stood there looking right through him like he always had.  Cain turned back to the railing and the empty openness, looking at nothing so he could think about nothing.  “You’re not ever going to have anyone if you don’t quit trying to fuck up,” Encke said.  “Especially not that baby you don’t care about.”

Cain closed his eyes until Encke left.  Picked himself up and went to find Abel, leaving the bottle there in the hanger for the maintenance crew to get rid of.


End file.
